


Birds of a Feather

by MnemonicMadness



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Crack, Declarations Of Love, First Kiss, Flirting, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Humor, Implied First Time, John is way too amused, M/M, Matchmaking, Pining, Siblings, Teasing, and therefore discussion of hypothetical incest, but no actual incest!, discussions of hypothetical foursome, flustered!Harold, harold ben and marty are triplets, jealous!Harold, rated for that mostly, there is no need to know all of these characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-18 18:15:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13687137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MnemonicMadness/pseuds/MnemonicMadness
Summary: “Would you two please stop sexually harassing my employee?”“He doesn’t look all that harassed to me...”“And if you won’t, Harold,someonehas to.”“Ben, don’t you have some poor, hapless strangers’ lives to meddle with?"Or: Harold, Ben and Marty are triplets. When John arrives at the library early one morning and finds all three of them there, Ben and Marty decide that this istheopportunity to do something about Harold's pining. Harold regrets a lot of his life choices, but it all works out in the end.





	Birds of a Feather

**Author's Note:**

> It's entirely, 100% Tee's fault that I actually ended up writing this (love you). Inspired by a conversation on Discord about Harold's workload (IFT, the numbers, maintaining his own and John's aliases, etc.) and how he couldn't possibly manage it unless he has clones or is one of triplets.
> 
> If you don't know who Marty Manning is, it's Michael Emerson's one-episode role of a vigilante serial killer. [Here you go.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zt7MJ9xSWDc)
> 
> I hope you'll enjoy these 4k of my questionable sense of humour!

Sitting at his desk in the library, Harold was doing his best to pointedly ignore Ben – and less pointed and more rueful his programs halted on the screens – pulling books from the shelves behind him, studying them briefly and then, no doubt deliberately, putting them back in the wrong places, in favour of giving Marty a stern look.

“I am well aware that you know I won’t give you any of the numbers until I can be certain you will handle them responsibly.”

Annoyingly, Marty seemed entirely unimpressed by the look and the tone he’d used, merely sprawling back further into the chair he’d dragged into the room from… somewhere. He huffed.

“What I’m doing isn’t all that different from your little mission here, and wouldn’t you say it’s _very_ responsible to...”

“By responsible, I mean non-lethal, and I can’t believe we’re actually having this conversation again!”

“You gave Ben a number.” Marty pointed out stubbornly and Harold didn’t need to turn around to know that Ben was smirking at them.

“That’s because I have more of a capacity for self-restraint than you, Marty.”

Now Harold did turn around, raising a sceptical eyebrow at his brother, Marty mirroring the expression. Ben gave them a somewhat offended frown that quickly returned to a more neutral expression when it must have pulled on the healing bruises on his face uncomfortably.

Harold sighed heavily. “I doubt any of these discussions will be any more fruitful than they have been all the times we’ve already had them. You both know what I need you to do for me, so if you could please just be on your way, I’d really appreciate it.”

“You just don’t appreciate our little family reunions. You know, you really should visit me on the Island some time, our systems are a little outdated and could use an overhaul. I think you owe me that much by now. And getting out into the sun would do you some good, Harold.”

“I hate to agree with Ben, but...”

Harold was about to deliver one of his usual retorts – this was another exchange that hadn’t changed much since their childhood – but it died on his tongue when he heard the surprised noise come from Ben and saw Marty sit up a little straighter. He was already expecting the worst when he whirled around on his chair but his heart still sank as he saw his fears confirmed.

There, in the entrance, probably having approached unnoticed while they were arguing though Harold also wouldn’t put it past either of his brothers not to alert him, stood John, surprise and confusion on his handsome face, his beautiful eyes flitting between Harold and his triplet brothers.

To make matters worse, out of the corner of his vision he already saw matching smirks spread over Ben’s and Marty’s faces. He had the almost overwhelming urge to bang his forehead against his desk. He’d told – or at least strongly implied – John to not come in until this afternoon and so he’d foolishly assumed he would have at least another few hours to delegate tasks to his brothers and make them leave before John would arrive.

“Mr Reese! What are you doing here so early?”

John continued to stare at his brothers for a moment before he visibly composed himself, turning his gaze to Harold, giving him a smirk. “You’re always full surprises, Finch.”

Harold’s urge to headdesk intensified exponentially the moment Ben opened his mouth. “Indeed he is.” Then he turned to Harold with the sly look that had never meant anything but trouble all their lives. “So this is the infamous Mr Reese you never stop talking about.”

From his other side, Marty was making an appreciative noise, eyes hefted on John, giving him a thorough and very obvious once-over. “Hmm. Well, I can certainly see why.”

“Oh, definitely.” Ben retorted, leering at John just as overtly, and Harold feverishly wished the ground would open up and swallow him. He never, _never_ should have let his brothers so much as become aware of John’s existence.

Across the room, John cleared his throat. “Are you going to introduce us?”

No, he never even should have revealed his own continued existence to his triplet brothers after he’d faked his death. But the damage was done and all that was left for him to do was to bear the consequences, even if he’d rather have sprinted to the exit and disappeared forever at this moment.

“Mr Reese, meet my triplet brothers, Benjamin Linus and Marten Manning.”

Of course, since the universe – or rather, his impudent sibling – could never simply give him a break, Ben seemed to take that as his cue to step forward, much too far into John’s personal space in Harold’s opinion, and really, where were his brother’s manners? Though John didn’t seem to mind nearly enough. Also, what was the look Marty was giving him supposed to mean?

“Please, call me Ben.” He was definitely holding on to John’s hand for longer than polite.

“John. Pleasure to meet you.”

“The pleasure’s mine.”

“Well, ours.” Marty added with a salacious smile, before throwing a look of mock-affront Harold’s way. “I can’t believe how long it’s taken you to introduce us. Especially after how much you’ve told us about him already!”

An increasing sense of dread was spreading through Harold when John glanced at him with something that seemed strangely like delight. “You have? Only good things, I hope?”

Ben was leaning even further into John’s space, now grinning outright.

_Oh no._

“Only excellent ones. You probably know that Harold likes his secrets, but he never could shut up about whomever he has a crush on.” He told John in a stage whisper intended to be heard clearly by all three of them.

“Ben! How dare… It’s not… I _do not_ …!”

“It’s almost sweet, really.” Marty calmly interrupted his mortified sputtering, now finally getting up from his chair and leisurely sauntering over towards John as well. “And you are his type. He always had an appreciation for pretty things.”

He knew there was no hiding the blush he could feel burning on his face when John briefly met his eyes this time, though going by the lovely, faint dusting of pink on John’s cheeks, perhaps he was at least not the only one experiencing unprecedented levels of embarrassment. But then John was chuckling, the soft, pleasant laugh he used on cases to charm his way past secretaries or to gain information from witnesses.

“I’d hope so. And thanks!”

Apparently, when Harold hadn’t been paying attention, Marty had found a piece of paper to note his phone number down on, which he was now folding. With another few strides, he stepped in between Ben and John – invading John’s space even further, obviously Harold really was the only triplet with _some_ manners – and slid the piece of paper into the outer breast pocket of John’s suit, letting his hand linger against John’s chest for a moment.

“Unless Harold gets his head out of the sand and learns to appreciate what he has right here, do give me a call whenever you’d like a little stress relief.”

Harold told himself that the way John’s eyes seemed to darken at that was merely a trick of the light. And that hopefully, Marty could feel the force of the glare directed at the back of his head.

“For goodness' sake, Marty, let him have some room to breathe! And I’m sure that if Mr Reese wants some _stress relief_ , he is perfectly capable of finding someone on his own, I’m sure he suffers no shortage of suitors.”

Now Ben was looking at him strangely, but with more than a little amusement, before turning his attention back to John and winking.

“I’ll gladly make myself available as well. And should you find yourself in the need of a vacation, the Island where I live has lovely weather and beaches and no one who insists on proper swimming attire.”

Harold swallowed a comment regarding the several private islands he owned, because while hiding his inappropriate feelings for John may unfortunately be a lost cause by now – one he was determined not to think too closely about until he was alone – there was no reason to behave even more unprofessionally than he already had. Until a moment later, precisely the moment it took for him to process Marty’s next comment.

“Why just either of us. I’m sure Ben and I could both give you a pleasant evening, if you’re interested in that. Maybe Harold’d join us as well?”

Harold threw a help seeking look at Ben, who smirked and pointedly did not disagree. He was all too aware that the noise that left him was far from dignified and the heat rushing to his face intensified by a tenfold. John was staring at him, his blush deepening as well, before turning back to Marty, opening his mouth and closing it again to swallow thickly before speaking.

“As long as Harold’s in, I’m game.” John said with a forced lightheartedness in his voice, but as well as Harold knew him, he immediately recognised the tension as well. In different circumstances, he would have attempted to make his brothers leave to hopefully make the poor man less uncomfortable, but he found himself too distracted by John’s answer. Which was, even though surely joking, not disgust and no outright denial either.

Ben turned to him, challenging. “Well, Harold?”

He wished he could claim it was purely disgust at the thought of being involved in such a situation with his brothers of all people that made him grimace, but if he was being honest with himself there was more than a little jealousy involved. The thought of John laid out, vulnerable, lost to pleasure at the hands of someone else…

“Marty, Ben, I have absolutely no desire to see either of you naked in the foreseeable future and preferably for the rest of my life. Especially not in such a context as you’re suggesting, and even less with myself joining you!”

By the way Ben raised his eyebrows at him, he knew exactly what was going on in Harold’s mind.

“Oh, but you _would_ like to see _John_ naked?”

Before he could get a word of protest in edgewise – though he knew well enough that his furious blush would belie any such attempt anyway – Marty was shaking his head at him in mock disapproval. “Older siblings. They never learn to share.”

“In case you have missed this fact so far somehow, I’m less than twenty minutes older than you, Marty.”

Predictably, his brother disregarded anything he said. “But you always liked watching, didn’t you. I know you have my apartment under surveillance, and I’m guessing the one of good John here as well,” with that, he turned back to the operative in question, once again ignoring entirely Harold, “if you’d prefer we’d go to your place. And Harold can watch.”

Again, John laughed softly. “Like I said. I’m only in if Harold is.”

He could feel John’s gaze on him, the weight and intensity of it, but he couldn’t bring himself to meet it. Not when he knew the jealousy, the strange, uncalled for and unexpected possessiveness he had for his friend and employee would burn so obviously in his eyes.

Ben heaved a long suffering sigh, as though Harold was depriving him of his greatest joy in life. “What does he like about him that we don’t have?” he asked Marty with an air of dramatics.

Both his brothers turning to him in synchronism was almost a relief. It was much simpler to glare at them than to look at John, much easier to suffer the resigned outrage over his siblings than the humiliation in front of the man he was hopelessly in love with.

“Well it can’t be the sideburns.” Marty deadpanned.

The truth would probably be not much at all, what was there for a man like John to see in an old, reclusive cripple like Harold? And yet, he raised his eyebrows at them haughtily. “It’s the moral compass.” Then, as judging as he could, he let his eyes wander over his brothers’ attire, Marty’s worn jeans and Ben’s somewhat baggy suit. “That, and the sense of fashion.”

Marty only laughed. “Roleplay?” he suggested, once more directed at John, who was watching their bickering with a mixture of bewilderment and amusement. When Ben made a considering hum, Harold figured it was time to intervene once more.

“Would you two please stop sexually harassing my employee?”

“He doesn’t look all that harassed to me...”

“And if you won’t, Harold, _someone_ has to.”

“Ben, don’t you have some poor, hapless strangers’ lives to meddle with? Because knowing you, you most certainly do and for once I would welcome it if you were to go and do so, so long as it is in any place other than here.”

“So I’m guessing we can’t talk you into a foursome? Because I still think we’d all enjoy that. Especially you and John.”

"Marten, _please_ , I'll give you one of the numbers if you insist but for goodness’ sake, will you just drop this? I will _not_ engage in a foursome with you and Ben!"

Marty huffed. “You know I can prevent crimes even without your numbers. But you should reconsider the foursome.”

Harold regretted glancing over at John only to find him grinning at his mortification by now. The beginning of a headache was throbbing behind his temples.

“Please. Both of you. Leave.” he commanded them in his sternest big-brother voice – which had stopped working on them when they were about five years old, and was already ridiculous in principle, since he was merely minutes older than his triplet brothers. Alas, desperate times called for desperate measures, and this moment most certainly counted as such. “Marty, your shift starts in half an hour and Ben, your board meeting in two but you’ll have quite the way to drive. Don’t be late.”

“Technically, your aliases, _your_ shift and meeting...”

“Which you agreed to take for me, something that I have the utmost gratitude for, but do remember that you both still owe me for keeping you out of prison. Although now it seems to me that perhaps, I have made an error in judgement in that regard.”

“My, Harold, no need to get so touchy. We’ll leave you and John to it.” Ben winked at the latter, pausing for a moment. Then he pulled a pen out of his pocket and – to Harold’s continued annoyance – took John’s hand in his, turning it around and scribbling what could only be his phone number on John’s palm. John simply let it happen, still with the same air of surprise, confusion and amusement.

“There.” Ben smiled suggestively. “Do call me if Harold doesn’t put two and two together. He can be a bit dense about these things.”

While he began strolling towards the hallway, Marty lingered, taking a second, patting John’s breast pocket and then letting his hand slide down John’s torso instead of simply taking it back. “My offer’s still standing as well. Or, you know, just call both of us!” Then he winked and gave Harold a cheeky wave that made him want to throw a book after his youngest triplet’s head.

John grinned and glanced over his shoulder at the retreating men. “Tempting. I’ll think about it!” he called after them cheerfully. Harold eyed the nearest book. His siblings were still within his range, and that particular exemplar was hardly one of his most expensive ones…

Luckily for the book, John sauntering towards him and half-sitting down on his desk distracted him from the notion. Silence stretched between them until Harold cleared his throat, finally finding his voice even though his cheeks were still burning with a mixture of outrage and humiliation.

“I do apologise for their behaviour towards you, Mr Reese. It was highly inappropriate for them to have involved you in their teasing in this manner, and I’ll make sure that you won’t have to suffer through another such encounter.” Harold swallowed thickly. What came next would be the difficult part, though there was nothing for it. It would be much better to clear the air now before this could fester for too long and damage their working relationship and the friendship they’d built. If it hadn’t already. “As for what they said about the nature of my regard for you, I apologise for that as well, I never meant for you to find out, not in general and certainly not like this...”

“Harold…”

“Please know that I don’t expect anything of you and despite appearances, neither do they. Regardless, should you consider… spending a night with either or” he suppressed a shudder and pushed the bitter jealously and longing away, “both of my brothers, that is of course something left entirely at your discretion. However, I’d still like to caution you...”

“Harold.”

“As I mentioned, I have kept them both from rather lengthy prison sentences, which perhaps wasn’t the morally right choice, but as much as I resent the fact on occasion, they _are_ my family. Still, you ought to know that in both their cases, it was murder in first degree. Ben murdered his former lover, whose name coincidentally was John by the way...”

“ _Harold._ ”

“…and Marty is the vigilante serial killer known as the Pre-Filer, who was active in the Los Angeles area a few years ago. I don’t believe either of them intends you any harm, but please be aware that they are both dangerous and easily underestimated men who...”

He was cut off by the sudden, firm press of John’s lips on his, left staring at John’s unfairly long eyelashes – blurry due to the lack of distance – in surprise, until John’s lips opened and his tongue gently teased the seam of his own. Even though his mind still hadn’t, his body finally caught on to the situation and his hands buried themselves in John’s thick, silky hair on their own volition. His eyes fluttered closed and he instinctively pulled John closer, taking over the kiss. John opened up for him easily, letting him explore his mouth to his heart’s content, letting out a soft noise of pleasure…

It was the sound of that small groan that pulled Harold back into reality and made him pull back, staring wide-eyed at the other, both of them panting for breath.

“Mr Re… I… _John_?”

John grinned at him and oh, this was nothing like the grin he had given his brothers. This one was bright enough to light up the perpetually gloomy library and every last crevice of Harold’s soul, warm and dazed and glowing with happiness.

“Sorry Harold, couldn’t help it. You’re cute when you’re jealous.”

“I’m not...”

John raised an eyebrow at him in an eerily accurate imitation of the expression Harold used so frequently. He sighted.

“Oh for… Yes. Yes, I was.”

The grin melted into something far softer, more affectionate and when they kissed this time, it remained much more chaste, an expression of emotion rather than desire and Harold revelled in it.

“You know,” John murmured against his lips, “it _is_ the moral compass. And the sideburns, and the fashion sense. And your love for books and sencha green tea and take-out and opera, which by the way still sounds like yowling cats to me. It’s the way you take care of me when I get myself injured in the field and the way you smile at me when everything goes well because as long as you smile, I feel like everything’s right in the world. It’s your voice in my ear when I’m out there and how you seem to know these little facts about just about anything and how you listen to my opinions and trust me and how I know that you’ll always have my back. I’ll list every single thing if you want, just be prepared that we’ll be sitting here for a long time then.”

Another soft peck, then some of the heat returned to John’s smirk as he ran one hand slowly, almost reverently over Harold’s abdomen.

“And it’s this.” he added when Harold looked at him questioningly. “Couldn’t help but notice how they’re both a bit thinner than you, and I gotta say I _much_ prefer your figure.”

“I suppose there’s no accounting for taste.” Harold quipped, pulling John in for another passionate kiss to distract him when he looked like he was about to argue.

“God, Harold. And here I thought you weren’t interested.”

He couldn’t help it, he laughed. “Well, in your defence, my dear, I was just as much in the dark. As much as I hate to admit it, Ben is right, I can be somewhat dense at times. It never even occurred to me that you are...”

“Head over heels in love with you?”

Although it had been heavily implied in the conversation so far, hearing it was quite something else and Harold’s breath caught. “Likewise.” he murmured into John’s mouth once he’d regained it, resting their foreheads together for a while, both of them processing the sudden revelation.

Several minutes passed in silence before John let out a sudden, teasing chuckle. “You know, if you ever change your mind about that foursome… I’m definitely down for the idea of getting pounded into a mattress by three of you.”

The scandalised look Harold gave him was probably much less effective with the amused fondness he knew he couldn’t – and had no intention whatsoever to – hide.

“Are you implying that I alone won’t be able to keep you satisfied?” He didn’t give John the chance to answer before claiming his lips once again, kissing him like both their lives depended on it, infusing it with every stolen glance and suppressed thought, every ounce of that strange possessiveness, not pulling back even as he slowly stood up, pushing John backwards until he was fully seated on the desk and had to catch himself with a hand behind his back as to not lose his balance.

Once he did end the kiss, he immediately moved to John’s neck, sucking a dark, highly visible mark into the fragile skin the open collars of his shirts always revealed so tantalisingly. Then he pulled back farther to survey his work. The dazed look in John’s eyes, the way his lips were kiss-swollen and glistening pink and wet, the satisfyingly obvious hickey, the way his chest heaved with his breaths and the suit Harold had personally tailored to his figure was hiding very little indeed at the moment.

A few more seconds, then John was once again grinning at him, eyeing him hungrily. “Nope, not implying anything. Just really hoping that you’ll finish what you started here.”

“Oh I certainly intend to, Mr Reese, though perhaps not here.”

“Crash room?”

Harold hummed agreeably and reached for John’s hand, pausing, then turning it around, frowning at Ben’s handwriting still on his palm. “If you don’t mind, I’d rather you’d wash this off first.”

“Would the shower be an acceptable compromise, Mr Finch?” he teased, smirking. Harold mirrored the expression.

“I do believe it would, Mr Reese.”

John gracefully slid from the desk, winding his arms around Harold and pulling him close once again. Moving from Harold’s desk to the crash room and the adjourning bathroom took much longer due to their mutual distraction and expensive, bespoke pieces of clothing, instead of being hung up properly the way they out to be, trailed through the building behind them, lying forgotten on the linoleum.

Neither of them noticed Ben and Marty lingering in the hallway, careful to step out of sight in just the right moment, grinning and giving each other a high five as they watched their slightly older triplet brother kiss the man he had been pining after for months now and finally lead him out of their line of sight. Although Harold would suspect as much the next morning, when he would find his phone containing quite the number of new messages, ranging from genuine congratulations to entirely unhelpful suggestions and advice and more offers of additional company, should John express interest.

For now, Ben grinned at his brother, shaking his head in mock-exasperation. “You know. Harold really ought to thank us.”

Marty agreed. “Yeah, it’s not like he’d ever have gotten his head out of the sand on his own.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I hope I haven't weirded you out with this... As always, comments make my crops flourish, my skin clear... You know how it goes. ;)


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